Someone to Stay
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: So she stays, hoping somehow he knows; not everyone leaves.


**Someone to Stay**

**Category: **Angst

**Summary: **So she stays, hoping somehow he knows; not everyone leaves.

**... ...**

_She stands with him by the door, the flimsy silk robe she's wearing not enough against the chill seeping in through the double-glazed windows. He's already dressed, a thick cashmere scarf tucked into his coat, and when his fingers splay lightly across her hips she fights not to give into the tempting warmth. "You're going to miss your flight." She warns, but there's no weight to the caution. __Especially when his mouth lifts in a cocky smile, __arms sinking around her with a squeeze. _

_"Mmm'..." he muffles a protest at her neck, his lips loose against her skin, "not ready to, say goodbye." _

_His purr against her throat vibrates through her and she can smell the coffee on his breath, craves the taste of it, but she's chaste with her kiss. They spent twelve years apart, they can make it through another three days. "Then don't..." she pulls back, smoothing his hair affectionately, "but you do need to go." _

_He drops his arm with a reluctant sigh, replacing her curves with the cold and rigid strap of his bag. _

_"I'll call once I'm in Chicago."_

**_... __..._**

He doesn't call.

**... ...**

She waits to accuse him, anger prevalent above her fear as she sits beside him in the hospital. She waits until she can't anymore, lashing out with frustrated tears that refuse to fall. His pale features don't change, the ventilator speaking for him with a heavy mechanical exhale that's as jarring as it is comforting.

He isn't in any pain but she feels it for the both of them; like something is tearing her apart from the inside.

She isn't ready to say goodbye either.

**... ...**

_"Donna, I'm back." He drops his bag on the floor with a thud, his curiosity peaked by the still silence. He expected some kind of welcome, in the very least that she be home, and he moves around the abandoned luggage- stopping dead when he sees her silhouetted in the doorway to his bedroom. _

_"You took your time." __She pulls her hand back from the frame, her smirk turning seductive as his eye roam the sheer lace encasing her curves. There's a hunger to his gaze, a fire that ignites his movement and she doesn't breathe again until he's standing in front of her._

"Donna."

She inhales, snapping from the daydream as Louis calls her name over the cafeteria table.

His voice is thick with concern, his eyes red and raw as they linger on the fork she hasn't picked up yet. "I miss him too."

The words cloud with emotion and it triggers something inside her, a feeling that isn't anger surging in waves. She keeps it guarded, afraid of it, until she's alone with Harvey back in his room.

She reaches for him, reminding herself what it feels like to touch his skin and her tears are hot and fast when they finally come.

**... ...**

_"Donna, this isn't healthy."_

Those are the words Rachel breaks out half-way through her visit, when sympathy and pleasantries start to run thin. Mike tries relaying his concern next but seventeen days has earned her the goddamn right to grieve however she wants.

People always leave him.

Not her.

So she stays, hoping somehow he knows; not everyone leaves.

**... ...**

_Inhale. _

She breathes with him when they turn the ventilator off.

_Exhale. _

Coaxing him.

_Inhale. _

Afraid that if he stops she will too.

_Exhale. _

... ...

The darkness doesn't doesn't lead itself with any explanation. It sits, hovering, still and silent in its answer. He feels trapped by the weight of nothing but a flash of red calms his panic. She's with him, the rest of his disjointed thoughts flat-lining into oblivion.

... ...

_A coma. _

That's the explanation he's given when the fog finally clears, his hoarse throat and aching body grounding him in the vivid light. The pain is real but flickers with concern in small waking moments of comprehension, when his gaze falls on Donna. She looks different, sharper angles jutting out from beneath her clothes and when he's able, he tells her to go home; shower and eat something.

Her response is vague but oddly specific.

"You said you'd call."

It takes him a moment to connect the pieces. He was supposed to call when he arrived in Chicago but he swallows the apology realizing it would fit the situation like a square peg in a round hole. "You said Knick's for my birthday."

Unwanted amusement catches her off-guard, the dry laugh fueling a mist behind her gaze that quickly pools into a hitched sob.

He has her hand then, firm in his grasp, and she nods, grounding herself again.

She didn't leave.

And he didn't leave either.

... ...


End file.
